The tree was enormous. “It’s also known as the Monkey-bread tree,” he explained. “It would take fifteen adults joining with outstretched arms to surround its circumference.”
I whistled and bent to read the inscription on the wooden plaque:
Baobab Tree (Adansonia digitata) One of the two mature trees in Barbados. This remarkable tree of girth 44.5 ft (13.6m) is believed to have been brought from Guinea, Africa around 1738 making it over two hundred fifty years old. Its jug-shaped trunk is ideally suited for storing water, an ideal adaptation in the dry savannah regions of its native Africa.
Without another word, Philip allowed us the time we needed to take in the experience. Bella leaned into my ear. “Make sure you thank David when we return to the hotel. Philip’s a fabulous guide,” she whispered.
“He is,” I said. “And I will.”
Our second stop was at St. James Parish Church in Holetown. Philip cleared his throat. “Built in 1847, St. James Parish Church is among the four oldest surviving churches in Barbados. In the southern porch of the church, a bell with the inscription, ‘God bless King William, 1696,’ can be found. It pre-dates the American Liberty Bell by fifty-four years.”
My wide-eyed wife and I toured the place. There were ancient mural tablets, stained glass windows and a dilapidated cemetery at the rear of the chapel.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As we pulled up the long drive to St. Nicholas Abbey, the well-preserved mansion showed off its curved Dutch gables and chimney stacks. “This place was built in 1660,” Philip said. “The rubble walls are made of boulders held together with a mixture of egg white and coral dust. There was no cement available when it was built.” While he hovered around the car outside, Bella and I purchased two tickets and took the tour.
Past the deplorable slave’s quarters, we were led into an old horse stable where we sat in metal chairs and watched a 1930s film on sugar plantation life. Meant to attract tourists, it had the opposite effect for Bella. She was appalled. As we walked back to the mansion, the tour guide said, “The history of our slaves is quite interesting.”
Bella grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Can we please leave?”
I nodded and looked back once at the old sugar plantation’s slave quarters. It was unimaginable how civilized people could treat others not so long ago.
Philip smiled when he saw us marching back to the car. “I’m not surprised you did not want to stay,” he said and threw open Bella’s door.
Back on the road, he explained, “With the need to harvest sugar to make rum, it was the Dutch who first supplied the forced labor from West Africa. The slaves came from Sierra Leone, Guinea, Ghana, the Ivory Coast, Nigeria and Cameroon, though many of them did not survive the journey. For those thousands who did reach their destination, they found their plantation owners to be cruel and without mercy. To meet the labor demands – kidnapping, as well as welcoming convicted criminals onto its shores, were two other popular means of obtaining servants.”
Bella stared out her window in silence until Philip brought the car to a sudden halt and leaned over the front seat. “Wait till you meet this character,” he said.
We got out and watched as a grown man scurried up a palm tree with a machete clenched in his teeth. With one swipe, he cut down two coconuts and slid down the tree to greet us. With one coconut bouncing in his left hand, he spun it in a circle, whacking at it three or four times with his machete. He then gave it one final cut, threw a straw into the small hole and handed it to Bella.
She accepted the gift. While the man worked on mine, Philip whispered, “He’ll be wanting a dollar for each, you know.”
I handed the man his money and put the straw in my mouth. The coconut water was cool and refreshing, tasting a little like melon with a hint of nut – and it didn’t set my stomach on fire as I’d feared.
Once we’d finished our drinks, with the speed and agility of a marksman he sliced the coconut in two, exposing the soft white meat inside.
Philip watched our faces and laughed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As we drove north, our friendly tour guide said, “As you’ll soon see, the sandstone cliffs rise hundreds of feet above the sea where Barbados meets the Atlantic Ocean. The waves are so bad on the northern coast that swimming is forbidden.”
He wasn’t kidding. While Bella and I spent a half hour taking pictures, the raging Atlantic beat on the coral formations below, creating an unforgettable display of untamed power.
We’d ventured south when Philip began pointing out the monkeys in the trees. “Watch out for these thieves. If you’re not careful, they’ll take everything from you.”
We laughed.
“Funny, huh? I’ll show you.” After a hundred more yards, he pulled over.
The area was thick with poverty, but I’d learned to trust Philip and stepped out of the car. There was a young man standing off the side of the narrow, dirt road. He had a small monkey perched upon his head. Philip waved the man over and handed me a stalk of sugar cane. “Pretend you’re eating this,” he whispered.
I did. Sure enough, the monkey flew off his owner’s head, bounced toward me and stripped the sugar cane out of my hands before I knew what had happened. While Philip grabbed his side in laughter, the monkey climbed back on top of his owner’s head and enjoyed his snack. “Thieves, I told you,” Philip said and laughed some more.
I tipped the man with the monkey for allowing Bella to take pictures of his friend sitting on top of my head. Philip checked his watch. “We should get to Harrison’s Cave.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
While waiting in line to buy tickets, a large man with a British accent began making obnoxious remarks. Before long, it looked like he might get violent with another tourist, who had been offended. My reaction was to shield my wife when I realized, She’ll be on her own soon. The reality of it stung worse than ever.
Starting at the Visitor’s Center and gift shop, we were driven in electrically-powered trams down into a deep, dark hole. The mouth of the cave was narrow and the floors were slick. As the walls closed in, I saw they were perspiring. “This is as close to hell as I ever want to go,” I whispered and slid closer to Bella.
“Stop it,” she said and slapped my arm.
“Harrison’s Cave is a unique phenomenon of nature,” the tour guide said over the intercom. “Please take note of the amazing stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave and stalagmites that emerge from the ground.” A room within the cave opened up and glistened like diamonds in water. “The stalactites and stalagmites were formed over thousands of years. In some places, the stalactites have reached down to the stalagmites, forming the spectacular white pillars you see.”
It was breathtaking. Bella took her pictures and we continued down. The caves were beautiful, but they did lack one thing – natural light. Even the prettiest things cannot be appreciated without light, I thought.
At the lowest level in the cave, we were invited to leave the tram and walk alongside a waterfall that plunged into a deep emerald pool below. It was remarkable, but at the same time – between the crippling nausea and growing claustrophobia – I couldn’t wait to leave.
Bella looked at me. “I’m ready to go, too,” she whispered.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Our final stop with Philip was at The Emancipation Statue. As we pulled up, I wasn’t surprised he’d saved it for last.
The statue symbolized the breaking of the chains of slavery at Emancipation. “Although slavery was abolished in 1834,” Philip explained, “it was followed by a four-year apprenticeship where free men continued to work a forty-five-hour week without pay in exchange for living in the tiny huts provided by the plantation owners.”
I shook my head alongside my wife’s.
“Freedom from slavery was celebrated in 1838 at the end of the apprentice period, with over seventy thousand Barbadians of African origin taking to the streets with the Barbados folk song.
” He pointed to the plaque on the statue:
Lick an Lock-up Done Wid, Hurray fuh Jin-Jin (Queen Victoria).
De Queen come from England to set we free
Now Lick an Lock-up Done Wid, Hurray fuh Jin-Jin
“Many Barbadians refer to the statue as Bussa, the name of a slave who helped inspire a revolt against slavery in 1816.”
On the way back to the hotel, Philip concluded his history lesson. “Barbados remained a British colony until internal autonomy was granted in 1961. The island gained full independence in 1966, but still maintains ties to the Britain monarch through a Governor General.”
I paid Philip his one hundred fifty dollars, plus a hefty tip and could not thank him enough.
He nodded his gratitude. “They say knowledge is power, my friend. The more people who know about suffering, the less chance it will happen again…yes?”
“Yes,” Bella said and we wished him well.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The rest of the week was spent in a painful haze, but I survived it by concentrating on my wife’s contagious smile.
Water sports included kite surfing, parasailing, kayaking, scuba diving and renting a WaveRunner. I considered taking out the Jet Ski, but told Bella, “One bad fall and I’m done.” She agreed.
The island music was a mix of calypso and reggae. There were plenty of outdoor bands and clubs to dance the night away. Though I chose to pass on the limbo contests, we did dance a few of the slower numbers.
Every morning, I spoke with Rosa, our cleaning lady. I could only make out three or four words each time, but it was enough to learn about her life. “After here, two jobs more,” she said, “for college, my daughter.” As she shared her dreams with me, a mother’s pride illuminated her dark, tired eyes.
Souvenir shopping quickly became Bella’s favorite part of the trip and she purchased a pair of seashell earrings right away. The narrow streets and crazy taxi drivers made it a daring adventure. We stopped at a cigar factory and watched the natives turn giant dried leaves into tightly rolled cigars. I bought two; one for me – which I had no intention of ever smoking – and the other for Michael. The local artisan’s shops specialized in handcrafted sculptures and paintings, most with loud, bright colors, themes of the sea, or their ancestors working the sugar fields. Bella bought a small watercolor for Riley and rum cakes for everyone else.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On the final day of our belated honeymoon, we ordered room service in the morning. At six o’clock, there was a knock at the door. Bella got up and answered it. There was no one there. The wait staff had confused the room numbers. The folks across the way were getting served. She looked at the alarm clock. We still had another hour of sleep before breakfast. As I stirred, she said, “You get the door next time.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. One wink later, a knock struck our door again. For a second or two, I couldn’t move my legs. I was paralyzed. Panic rushed through my aching body and I quietly begged, Please, God, not here. Not now. Finally, something gave and I was able to swing my swollen feet onto the floor. It took a minute, but I met room service in the blinding light of the cracked door. Looking back at Bella, I’d never been so grateful for the use of my legs. I signed for the meal and tipped the boy what anyone would – given that they’d just experienced a miracle.
After I showered, I left the bathroom to find Bella waiting for me – her fist clenched and extended. I opened my hand to receive the surprise and she placed a seashell earring into it. I looked up to find her wearing the other one. “What’s this for?” I asked.
“Do you know what day this is?” she asked.
My mind raced. It’s not our anniversary or either of our birthdays. I shrugged.
“Today is exactly twelve months and one day from Dr. Rice’s prognosis.”
“And I’m still here,” I said, my eyes immediately starting to water.
“Yes, you are,” she confirmed, her eyes filling too.
“Then miracles do happen.”
She hurried into my arms.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Though Bella was reluctant because of my poor health, I insisted we go on a snorkeling trip to celebrate. We boarded the giant catamaran to the spiritual beats of reggae. The captain was Australian, the two crewmembers were island natives, and the other six couples were celebrating their marriage vows as well.
As we sailed out to one of two coral reefs, I watched as one of the crewmembers – a Raja man with long dreadlocks – dove off the bow of the boat and swam to shore. Within minutes, he returned with a bag of fish that looked like sardines. “I wonder what those are for?” I asked Bella.
She shrugged and put on her snorkeling gear.
I slipped on my life vest and inflated it until I looked like the Michelin Man. Bella laughed but I wasn’t taking any chances. I could only swim as far as my arms would take me. Treading water had never been my strong suit. As I fumbled with my fins, the same Raja guy took off at a full sprint from the back of the boat and dove into the water without a mask or snorkel. I waited for him to come back up, but he didn’t. I looked to both sides. He still wasn’t there. Seconds later, his head popped up like a fishing bobber and he was smiling. “Come on, peoples,” he said. “You’ll want to see this.”
Following Bella, I eased into the warm water like the old man I’d never imagined I’d become and floated for a few seconds until I knew I wasn’t going to sink. I placed the snorkel into my mouth and lay on my belly, submerging my mask.
It was a foreign world; a beautiful world filled with schools of colorful fish flying high above coral mountain ranges. I took a couple deep breaths when I saw him. Our Raja friend was sitting on the ocean floor, waving one of the sardines in front of him. It took a few seconds before an enormous sea turtle hovered over him for the snack. My mouth must have been hung open because I gagged on water and had to clear it from the snorkel.
Raja man brought the ancient sea turtle so close to Bella and me that we were able to touch it. I felt so relaxed and happy, floating weightlessly and holding hands with my lifelong love.
After exploring the second reef, we managed to get back on the boat, exhausted but thrilled. “Incredible,” I said to Bella.
She kissed my salty cheek. “Thank you. I’ve waited my whole life for that swim. It was even more amazing than I’d imagined.”
“Sorry it took so long,” I said.
“Nonsense,” she countered. “We did it and that’s all that counts.”
I nodded and took her into my arms.
On the trip home, we were served plates of flying fish and native brown rice. Suspended in thick nets just above the water, Bella and I drank rum punch from plastic cups, cuddled and witnessed the most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen – maybe even better than the Arizona desert. “Perfect,” Bella kept saying. “Just perfect…”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On the morning we packed to leave, I caught David on the beach, raking the seaweed the tide had delivered the night before. “How are you, my friend?” I asked.
He leaned on his rake and smiled. “I hear people talking sometimes about the old man cleaning the beach, but look at this…” He waved his hand, gesturing to everything that surrounded him. “I work all day in paradise. There is no bad job here in Barbados.”
I nodded. The people of Barbados make their own choices now, I thought, and then wondered if that were true. Rosa is a free woman, but she enslaves herself to three jobs to liberate her daughter from poverty. “How much does it cost to go to college here?” I asked David.
He searched my face for the reason I was asking, but he never asked. “Around one thousand U.S. dollars a year.”
I thanked him for everything and then left to help Bella fit the souvenirs into our overstuffed luggage.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As we checked out, I stole one last glimpse of paradise. Each face was bronze and beaming with happiness, their bodies sculpted
in muscle. The friendly sun warmed the hearts of the coldest men and it was infectious. Like the people, the sturdy palm trees bent to the soothing ocean breezes, while every color of the spectrum created a botanical feast. Standing on a beach of powdered sugar, the rush of the gentle waves matched each breath and a simple peace overtook me. The sun’s warm fingers caressed my tingling skin and the salty taste of the Caribbean quenched my thirst for fun. I watched as the cherry-red sun sat on the horizon, promising another magical day. And though it was time to go, I had to smile. I didn’t need to own any of it, nor ever visit again. On the darkest, coldest, most painful nights, I could simply close my eyes, search the blessing of a memory and return to Barbados once again. I turned to find Bella standing at my side and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “I really am sorry I never took you here sooner.”
“Enough of that. We came when we were supposed to.”
“Do you have the envelope?” I asked.
She handed it to me. “This is a good thing you’re doing, you know.”
I shrugged. “Better late than never, I guess.”
I handed the desk clerk the envelope and carefully explained, “I need it to be hand-delivered to Rosa, the cleaning lady who works in the mornings. Do you know the one I’m talking about?”
She smiled. “We only have one Rosa. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
I returned her smile, confident that Rosa would receive our gift. What the desk clerk didn’t realize was that the envelope contained one thousand dollars and a short note reading, Rosa – please use this money to free up some of your time to spend with your family. Thank you for everything. The service was wonderful – Don and Bella DiMarco.
Twelve Months Page 19
